The Kiss Of Life
by idontbelieveinlove
Summary: Oneshot. Based on a dream that I had. Killers POV and he has Bones in his sights. Will she survive his wrath? Read on to find out


_Hey guys, sorry I haven't updated my other fanfic **Not My Bones Anymore. **I'm working on it, ya see, my laptop broke ages ago and I had like zero internet access it was sooo depressing. So now I've finally scraped enough cash to buy another with the money that was supposed to be my rent but who cares if I'm homeless next month right? As long as I have my new laptop and Bones I'll be happy. Anyway, new chapters of that fanfic should be up shortly. This story should tide you over until then. _

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bones, or any of the characters sigh Except this killer, he's all mine baby. And since I'm angry that Booth, Brennan and all the squints don't bow to me I'm going to take my anger out on them. **

**The Kiss Of Life**

No-one would've suspected that some ungodly horrors were taking place behind the closed doors of the upscale houseboat. There were no sounds in the night, only the lapping of the frigid water on the bank of the placid lake and the rustling of the trees and scrubs as the animal inhabitants made their way through the caliginous night. It was supposed to be a picturesque holiday camping attraction, that lake. Not a place for a deranged killer to play out his sickening fantasies.

The fact that the lake was a holiday camping attraction gave the killer a place to be undisturbed and unnoticed. It was nearing the winter months. Nobody in their right mind would come camping to his lake in the winter. He'd had a close call once, in his bloodthirsty beginning when he was letting himself be careless. The power of holding one's life in his hands went to his head. He had been drunk on the power, playing god he'd forgotten to calculate his every move. He'd been stupid enough forget to check when the Park Ranger would come by the lake.

The thrill of hiding his victim before he could be caught by the dimwitted Ranger was exhilarating but he swore that winter, three years earlier, he'd never let it happen again. He got more of the thrill seeing the life drain out of his prey. Besides, he knew that he could never go back to prison. Not again.

He had to admit, his latest victim was something else. The early 30s, 5'9 auburn beauty sure knew how to pack a punch. She had a lot of fight in her. He'd underestimated her. It was until she realized that she had no chance that she slipped into the pattern of everyone else he had maimed. She had begun to beg for her life. That was when he lost his little respect for the woman.

Her captor had been drawn to her. Usually he took his victims in the moment, young drunk women in the middle of the night. Part of them thought that these young girls deserved it. They were stupid. They needed to be taught a lesson. Why would someone in their right mind go out alone in night when they could be taken advantage of? It made it a whole lot easier when his day job was as a taxi cab driver.

When he first saw her he felt something. It was a feeling that was unfamiliar to him. So he had to follow her. Just for a few hours. In those few hours he'd felt a rage boil underneath his skin. In one fleeting second his feelings changed. It turned to rage. Maybe it had been jealousy?

He saw the way she looked at the man in the designer suit as they made their way into a small diner. Her eyes had been lit up and a beaming smile spread across her face. It was the smile that was meant for him. He saw the way the designer suit guy placed his hand protectively in the small of her back as he opened the door to the diner. She was supposed to belong to him, not this other guy.

That was when he decided he'd kill her. This kill wasn't going to be for the power of playing god. It was for revenge. It was because if he couldn't have her, nobody else could.

When it came down to it, taking this victim must've been fate. He didn't have to lure her to her death, she came willingly. She had hailed him over after saying goodbye to designer suit guy. The killer seethed when he saw how his hand lingered on her forearm for a little longer than necessary and she'd greeted it with another smile. The smile that was meant for him.

He had a system when it came to killing his victims. He'd blindfold them and gag them, chain them to a pipe. Then he'd wait. He'd watch them for a few hours. He studied their patterns and imagined being in their minds. He wondered what they thought in the last moments of their lives. Then he would talk to them. This was the part when they would beg. After that, he'd hit them over the head with a lead pipe. It was simple. And fast. He enjoyed how fragile life was. In one moment it was there and in the next moment it was not. He was God.

She was different though. He did chain her to the pipe and gag her. But he didn't cover her eyes. He wanted to see every emotion that she experienced. It angered her how she spoke. She was incredibly modest and stubborn, and she looked down on him. That was when he lost his temper. The man barely lost his temper. It was out of character for him. He kicked her in the ribs repeatedly. That was when she turned into one of the others. She was begging for her life. Just like them. When it came down to it she was just another of those young drunk girls. And he thought she was different.

Now she was curled up on the floor in the fetal position sobbing for her life. He noticed that her wrists had become raw and were bleeding from the chains being so tight. To see her bleed and cry gave him satisfaction for a few hours. But then his hunger for her grew again.

The executioner stalked into the room and saw her figure in the darkness. Only nine hours earlier he'd imagined caressing her creamy coloured skin and running his hands through her hair. He'd wanted to know the feeling of her body flush against hers. Now all he wanted to do was kill her.

"Tell me. What is your name?" he asked. Once she was dead he wanted to know the name of the women that put the impure thoughts into his mind. He wanted to know the name of the woman that could've been her demise. She looked up to him and even in the darkness he could see those blue orbs that were her eyes. They were full of hate and tears. The woman clenched her jaw and refused to speak. To get her name he had to choke it out of her. So he did.

When he thought it to be her final breathe, he let go. The blue orbs were now filled with terror.

"Temperance. Temperance. My name is Temperance." The whispers could be heard only to him. He smiled, something that she thought a man like him could never pull off.

"Temperance." He let the name roll off his tongue. He liked the name. But he didn't like it how she cringed when he spoke it. She was supposed to give him the smile that she gave to the designer suit guy and reach forward to caress his face. More anger and rage boiled inside of him and he had to release it. He hit her again, this time drawing blood from her pouty mouth. She sobbed once more, which was incredibly hard as she was still fighting for her breath.

"Now it's time for you to die." He decided. He'd been holding on for long enough. Her eyes widened at the thought as he calmly released the chains, bracing for a struggle to ensue. He was right. The moment the chains dropped she was up and there was a fist in his face. It was his turn to have a numb mouth and the metallic taste of blood on his tongue.

A battle took place. She was a fighter, unlike the others. She'd managed to get out onto the deck. But she was not strong enough. After he stabbed her in the gut with his fishing knife he had her in a lock, her body flush against his. The killer did get to fulfill his wish, but not as he had planned. His plan had been for them to be unclothed. In the mist of the struggle he hadn't noticed that they now had company. The distinguished click of a guns safety been taken off made him alert that they weren't alone.

Before the two of them was designer suit guy and he did not have a pathetic fishing knife as a weapon. He had the gun. As instinct the killer raised the knife to Temperance's neck. She could feel the sticky blade covered in her blood and fish blood against her bare skin. She could feel how cold it was, so cold it almost made her tremor.

"Booth." A relieved whisper left her lips and he felt her grip against his arm loosen. She was letting her guard now that he was here to save her.

He knew that his opponent, this 'Booth' character would stop at nothing to get his woman back. He almost saw his brown eyes glaze into a dark black. Booth was furious. But so was he. No one was supposed to know that he was here, killing as he pleased. The killer had also decided that he would not go back to prison. The only way that he was going to leave this boat was in a body bag.

"FBI. Put the knife down and let go of her." This angered him. He was supposed to be in control. He was supposed to be giving the orders. He was supposed to be God.

The killer stood his ground and didn't utter a single word. Booth shifted his gaze from the killer to his terrified partner for a moment and his eyes trailed down her white shirt. He knew that it was blood. This animal had stabbed her. The killer noticed where the FBI agent was looking and then he was fearful.

He was going to die tonight. He was right. Temperance was going to be his demise. It was clear that this man would kill for her, to protect her. He knew at that moment that it had been fate that she'd hopped into his taxi cab. It was his turn to die. Maybe it was time to surrender?

With one shift motion he pushed her, right over the side of his boat. He didn't have a chance to see her body helplessly plummet into the glacial depths of the lake. He was dead. The FBI agent put a bullet right between his inhuman eyes.

With the shock of what had just happened, the icy water engorged her mouth. She didn't have any strength to fight. She was sinking, sinking into the depths of the lake. The forensic anthropologist couldn't help but think that this was her demise as well. She was going to die. And with that she closed her eyes.

He trembled as he pulled her limp body up onto the deck. Already, she had gone blue. She had no pulse. The FBI agent had to act fast and proceeded with CPR. The man had no time to deal with his emotions, only one thing went through his head. He declared in his head that she was not going to die tonight. She was not going to die for as long as he shall live. Not his Bones.

Booth gave her the kiss of life.

Her blood started to pump and her eyes fluttered open. An immense pressure was released off his heart and he took a huge breath, unaware that he'd been holding his breath as she came to. She was still helpless, her eyes still filled of terror.

He turned her head to the side as she spluttered out the poison that was the water from her lungs. Tears streamed down her face as she lay there, looking directly at the lifeless man that intended on killing her. She felt a cold hand on her head, brushing her damp hair from her colourless face.

The woman turned to him. He was the man who saved her. He was her partner. She felt safe again. And with that, she gave him the smile that the man a mere metre away had died for.

* * *

_yeah, i'm sorry for all the spelling mistakes if there are any. I actually dreamt this up and I woke up like two hours ago to get it down. It was crazy, probably not going to get ANY sleep tonight. oh, and I'm also sorry if the ending seems a little rushed. I might come back and edit that later._

**Please review, I don't care if it's good or bad, I can take it. If its bad I'll just give up my blossoming writing career and go and flip burgers mkay?**


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